Life Beyond AKA The Five Stages
by Kameka
Summary: The characters of the show 'Wild Card' go through the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) regarding Sue's accident. -- rated for subject matter (grief) and language
1. Prologue: Alpha & Omega

Life Beyond

(The Five Stages [of Grief])

Author: Kameka

Disclaimers: Don't own the characters, only borrowing, don't sue.

Spoilers: if you know the show (and have seen the series premiere), you won't be spoiled.

Notes: I started this a while ago, but will be using it as a form of therapy after someone close to me died. So.. this is for him. S.A.S. (2-5-40 - 5-29-04)

Summary: The characters of the show 'Wild Card' go through the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) regarding Sue's accident.

**Prologue: "Alpha and Omega"**

Susan Busiek turned over with a groan as her hand slapped her bedside table, seeking the alarm clock that was insistently reminding her that she had to wake up. She remained still for a moment, relishing the quiet and softness of her bed, before there was the crash of glass breaking downstairs in the kitchen. With another soft groan she levered herself up from the soft mattress and went into the bathroom to complete her morning routine, taking a quick shower and getting dressed in her normal, comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. After pulling a brush through her damp but quickly drying hair, she ventured downstairs to where her three rambunctious children were waiting.

"Morning, guys," she said brightly as she ventured into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, sipping the dark brew as she ran a hand through Hannah's soft hair in greeting.

"Hi, Mom," was chorused from various points around the first floor of the house as she leant against the counter and continued to sip her coffee as she watched her older two children race through the house looking for things they needed at school that day, something that was normal for them both.

"Taylor, Cliff, do you think you'll be ready soon? You need to eat something; breakfast is the most important meal of the day," she reminded them.

"Yes, Mother," Taylor said mockingly as she dramatically rolled her blue eyes and tossed her bag down to a bench just inside the door, before she made her way to the kitchen and flung herself into one of the chairs at the dining room table. She picked up a box of cereal, making a face at the cartoon emblazoned on the front of it. Making a show of it to please her mother, Taylor poured a bowl of it and added milk, picking up the bowl of food and showing it to Sue before setting it back down and beginning to eat.

"Good," Sue answered her eldest daughter firmly, though her tone was just as mocking. She watched as her lone son continued to race around the downstairs of the house, looking for some unknown item that he needed for school. After a few more minutes, he made his way into the dining room and sat down at the table to eat his own breakfast of cereal.

"Hey, Mom, I'm going to need a protractor for math class, okay? We forgot to pick one up at the beginning of the school year," he explained.

Sue absently nodded as she set down her cup and began to clean up the table, Hannah helping her by carrying the cereal and milk into the kitchen to put them away. "You couldn't have told me over the weekend?" Not expecting an answer, she sighed and continued: "I'll pick one up for you sometime today, Cliff – would that be all right?"

"Yeah; I don't need it until tomorrow," he answered with a quick smile as he finished his cereal and abandoned the bowl on the table, a habit that had Sue sigh in exasperation and roll her eyes as she transferred it to the sink in the kitchen.

With the children's help, the table and counters were soon clear of the usual morning debris; the cereal was tucked where it belonged, the milk put safely away, and any dirty dishes were rinsed and residing in the sink to be cleaned later on. After one last check to make sure that the had everything that they needed for that day in school, Taylor, Cliff, and Hannah streamed out of the house and made their way to the car, Taylor unlocking it as she had the keys from Sue. By the time Sue had made sure the house was locked, they were already in the car and squabbling, as they tended to do every morning.

"Cliff, your next practice is on Tuesday, right? Do you have anything else planned for this week?" After he had agreed to the first and said that nothing else was planned beyond the second practice, which was normally held on Thursday, she turned to Taylor. "Do you have anything planned for this week?"

"Carla's having a party on Friday; can I go?"

"May you," was chirped from the position behind the driver's seat.

"Thank you, Hannah," Sue acknowledged with a smile and a look at her youngest daughter via the rearview mirror. "Will her parents be there?"

Taylor sighed and looked out her window at the passing scenery. "They won't be at the party," she said, "but they will be in the house. Is that enough?"

"Yes; as long as you do any homework you're assigned for the weekend before you go, you're allowed."

Taylor's scandalized "_Mom!_" echoed through the car, causing Sue to sigh and Cliff to wince and rub at his ears, much to Hannah's amusement. "Can we bargain here? What about a small portion of it? One assignment," she tried.

Sue considered the offer for a moment before replying. "Two, and you have to finish up the rest after your chores and before you go out on Saturday."

"But," Taylor tried to argue the point but was cut off by her mother.

"Those are the same rules that Cliff has when he has something to do on Friday night," Sue reminded her daughter.

"But he doesn't go to parties," Taylor pouted, "He goes to games."

There was laughter from the backseat before Cliff piped up: "That's not helping your case, sis. My games are an extra-curricular activity; your party is something you want to do."

Twisting in her seat to glare at her younger brother, Taylor made a face as they pulled up at her high school. "Oh, thank God!" She quickly climbed out of the light blue car and almost slammed the door shut, stopping to bend down and talk to her mother. "I'll do the two assignments," she promised. "Can I go?"

"May you," once again popped up from the backseat, the sound of it causing Taylor to roll her eyes.

Sue chuckled at it before nodding to her eldest daughter. "Yes, you may."

"Thanks, Mom." Taylor shut the door with a bang and hurried off to where a group of her friends were waiting on the steps to the school.

With a shake of her head, Sue put the car in gear and began the journey to Cliff's school, which was ten blocks away. "When's your next game?"

"We have one next week, against the Eagles. They're pretty good, but Coach Morales says that if we practice really hard we have a shot at beating them."

"Sounds good; is it marked on the calendar?"

"Yeah," Cliff answered, and they drove in near silence until they reached the middle school that Cliff went to. Once they arrived, he opened his door and then turned back. "Remember the protractor, okay? Mrs. Klein said that we had to have them by tomorrow or we wouldn't be able to do the assignment in class."

"I'll do my best," she promised, smiling when Cliff gave her thumbs up and a quick 'Bye, Mom,' before he, too, shut his door and hurried to where some of his friends were. "And then there were two," Sue sighed as she once again pulled into the morning traffic, causing Hannah to giggle again. "What about you, Miss Hannah? Do you have any plans for this week?"

Hannah sighed and shook her head. "Not even a birthday party," she admitted, the despondent tone causing her mother to smile slightly.

"How would you like to make a date? Just the two of us," she promised. "Both Taylor and Cliff usually hang out with friends on Saturday night. How does a movie sound?"

"Just the two of us?" Hannah nodded excitedly. "We can see Finding Nemo again!" she said, naming Disney and Pixar's latest animated offering.

"Wouldn't you rather go see a movie you haven't already seen twice?"

Hannah considered it before shaking her head. "I like Finding Nemo," she answered, "but we can see if there's something new."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, causing Hannah to laugh again. "Is there anything special going on at school today?"

"We get to go to the library," Hannah answered, naming a weekly trip that her class took. "We have to take out a book that we want to use on our book report. It's due next Monday."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"Maybe Charlotte's Web? It's on the list, but I wanted to see some of the others before I decided."

"You always have loved that book," Sue remarked with a soft smile. "You always picked that one when you wanted me to read to you."

Hannah smiled and unbuckled her seatbelt as soon as the car had stopped in front of her school. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Hannah. Have fun at school today."

"I will." With that, Hannah opened her door and slid out of the car, hurrying towards her classroom to drop off her book bag before she could meet up with some of her friends.

Sue quickly made her way home now that her youngest was safe and sound at school, no doubt eagerly waiting for the bell to ring for classes to begin. She parked her car in its' usual spot in the driveway and climbed out, entering her house and leaning against the door with a sigh. It was quiet, blissfully quiet. She stood still for a few moments, relishing the silence, before pushing away from the door and heading upstairs, retrieving dirty laundry that had to be cleaned. Once it was in the washing machine, she made her way to the kitchen, quickly cleaning and rinsing the bowls, glasses, and utensils that had been used that morning. That simple chore quickly completed, she pulled a rolling microwave cart out of the corner where it had been kept out of the way and placed it next to the computer.

She booted the computer up before walking over to the counter to get another cup of coffee and going back to the computer, sitting down as she took a sip of the dark, bitter brew. She automatically pulled up an accounting program and set the cup she held down to grab one of the manila folders that were neatly stacked on one side of the cart. Making a face, Sue began putting information into the computer, watching with satisfaction as line after line was filled.

With a slight sigh, she continued her work, reflection, as she rarely had time to do when the children were home, how different her life truly was from how she had expected it to be. Instead of a happily married woman, a wife as well as a mother, who was working at a job she loved, Sue was a single parent who worked at a job she hated: keeping accounts for small businesses and doing taxes for people come tax time. It was quite a jump for a woman who had always despised math and numbers, someone who had once dreamed of getting a degree and becoming an English teacher. The exact moment that had changed her life was easily pinpointed: three years into her relationship with David, when she had discovered she was pregnant for the first time.

Up until then, she and David had been fairly carefree and managing fairly well while living together. She was in school with a scholarship and David spent a lot of his time practicing his music with the band, both of them working to help cover their expenses. But at that moment, as soon as the window in the home pregnancy test had given a positive answer, she knew that something had to change. It was no longer David and Sue; it was David, Sue, and child. They had gotten married. It had been painful to give up her dreams of an English degree and instead focus on a crash course in accounting, something that would allow her to work from home, but Sue had done it, had done what was needed for her family. Even then, she had been happy, having dreams of a real family of her own ever since she was a little girl.

When Taylor, their child, had been a toddler, life in the Woodall household had finally fallen into a hectic balance, chaotic but stable, and Sue had once again begun to dream about her English degree. She had even gotten a course catalogue from the nearest community college, intending to take one or two night classes a semester; a slow-going way to achieve her degree but one that would allow her to continue working and taking care of her family. Instead, fate had once again intervened in the form of a second pregnancy and plans for her degree were once again shelved until a more appropriate time.

Life had continued, her pregnancy progressing, and Sue eventually gave birth to her first son, Clifford. If things had been busy with one child, they became even worse with the addition of a second. Sue, extremely grateful that she had found a job where she could work at home and not have the added expense of regular daycare and babysitters, had plunged back into the accounts. Being a full-time mother in addition to working full time had taken over her life, leaving David to his own devices more often than not.

By the time she had gotten pregnant for the third time, David had begun spending more time with the band, practicing, playing gigs, and waiting for his big break. After Hannah was born, things became even more crazed than before. Fights that had begun years ago, shortly before Cliff had been born, arguments about money and jobs, David's music and the large amount of time he spent away from his family, were renewed in earnest. Each time they discussed it, it was worse than the last, until it became impossible to hide their problems from the older children. It had continued for close to four months before culminating in a week of frigidly polite near-silence that had ultimately led David to packing his bags and leaving. The household stifled him, he'd said, and he wasn't ready for the responsibilities of being a parent. The band was going on tour and he was going with – and he wasn't planning on coming back.

That bombshell had left Sue in shock, running the house, taking care of their – her children, and working on autopilot as she wondered where she'd gone wrong and how she was going to do everything she had to do. It had taken close to a month for Sue to be to think clearly and come to an important realization: not a lot had changed. David had never been a hands-on parent, preferring to leave most of the work to Sue while he ate dinner with the family three or four times a week and took the children out for a few hours every weekend unless there was something more pressing, something he'd rather do. The majority of incoming money had come from the work that Sue did, and it was she, not David, who took care of the daily running of the house. She wasn't going to have to do anything she hadn't already done. She could do this. She was born to do this.

The loud buzzing the timer on the stove going off jarred Sue out of her thoughts and she looked around to find that she had automatically input all of the information she'd needed to, and her coffee was stone cold in the cup beside the monitor. She had no memory of doing it, or of transferring the wet clothing to the clothing line, but she obviously had. She got up to take them off the line, checking to see if she had put another load on; she hadn't, so she carried the dry clothes upstairs for folding and hanging. As she went through the mindless chore, she absently wondered why she had been so introspective earlier. Unable to draw any concrete conclusions, she decided that it was because of her birthday, which was in less than three weeks: growing older always made one think about the past.

She finished the chore of laundry and put them on the appropriate beds, waiting for the rightful owners to put the pieces away where they belonged. Going back downstairs, she made a sandwich for her lunch and sat at the dining room table to eat it before she reached for the pile of folders that held her finished work. Quickly gathering them, she left the house, being sure to lock the door behind her, and made her way to her light blue car, an older model that still ran wonderfully – at least on the days when it decided not to be temperamental. She went through her errands, delivering the papers with a smile and some nice conversation to men and women she considered friends, even flirting a bit with an office junior at a law firm, and easily finished her food shopping for the week, menus planned in her head.

In no time at all, she was back home and the groceries were put away and she barely had time to go through the mail, paying bills as she came to them, before she had to go pick up her children.

All of them were bursting at the seams, Hannah waiting anxiously to tell her about what they did in the third grade today while Cliff was rhapsodizing about a 'totally awesome' project that he was assigned in his history class and all of the things he planned to do with it, different places that he needed to go to get the supplies. Her male brainiac already had his plan half scribbled out on a piece of torn-out notebook paper that was crumpled from being folded up in his pocket. Taylor was more reticent, but admitted to having a good day, mentioning Steph's new hair-cut and the tentative plans made for Friday night, a bunch of friends coming over and everyone doing their homework together at the Busiek-Woodall house.

They arrived home and everyone filed out of the car and to the house before scattering: Taylor running upstairs to change into comfortable clothes, Hannah spreading her homework out on the coffee table, and Cliff dumping his bag at the base of the stairs on his way to the kitchen for the bottomless pit's normal after-school snack. He soon joined Hannah in the living room and began to read through one of the chapters her needed to for his English class, while loud music began to reverberate through the house; Taylor's 'study session music,' as the sixteen year old called it.

Sue, for her part, put another load of laundry on before sitting back down at the computer and beginning to work through the files that were given to her that day. She took breaks to help the kids with homework questions and putting the load of towels on the clothesline when it was finished washing. Gathering her things together on the rolling cart and sliding it out of the way in case one of the kids needed the computer for schoolwork, she went into the kitchen and began assembling dinner.

It was a noisy affair, as per usual, all of the kids talking and laughing, telling about their days, jokes they heard, and plans for the weekend. It wasn't until dinner was cleared away that things began to unravel.

"Did you pick up my protractor?"

Sue turned to her son, obviously thinking. "Cliff, I – I forgot. Sorry." She shrugged slightly, smiling a bit.

"You promised!"

"Cliff,' she turned to him, sighing, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to forget, but I did."

"I need it tomorrow!" He gestures, throwing his hands up in the air in a decidedly over-dramatic way. "I told you that! If we don't have them tomorrow, then we can't do the in-class assignment."

"Okay, okay. I'll go out and get you your protractor, all right?"

"Thank you!" He waved one hand and flopped down beside Hannah on the sofa. "It's not like I asked you to pick up comics; this is something I need for school."

Sue, in the process of pulling on a lightweight jacket, turned to Cliff and put one hand on her hip. "Did I or did I not say I was sorry and that I'll get it for you?"

He rolled his eyes and looked down slightly. "You did." After a moment of silence charged with waiting, he sighed. "Sorry."

"Thank you." Sue looked over at Hannah, who was sitting on the sofa looking through the book she had chosen for her book report. "Do you want to come, sweetie? It shouldn't be too long; you'd be able to take your bath after we got back."

Hannah looked up with a smile. "I'm reading," she said by way of explanation before looking back down at the book and offering a belated "thank you."

"I'll ask Jeannie to pop over while I'm gone," she said before starting out the door.

"Mom!" Taylor, who had been standing on the stairs, came down shaking her head. "You just said you wouldn't be gone long. We don't need a baby-sitter."

"She's right," Cliff piped up, for once agreeing with his older sister.

"It's not for you, it's for me," Sue explained, placing a hand on either side of Taylor's head and smiling. "It just makes me feel better to know she's here, okay?"

Taylor sighed and nodded, looking over to Cliff, who shook his head and muttered "if she's to make you feel better, you should take her with you" under his breath.

Sue just shook her head and left, running over to ask Jeannie to pop in for the duration of the errand, something that should be forty minutes, max. Jeannie had no problem with it and, as Sue went to her car, Jeannie let herself into the house with the ease of someone who knew her way around.

Sue decided to by-pass the near-by store, knowing that one of the bigger one-stop-shopping stores that had cropped up all over the country, knowing that it would be more likely to have what she needed even with other students needing the same things. It was a bit farther away from the house, but not enough to make a real difference. Traffic was light and she arrived there in short order, quickly walking though the aisles to the school and office supplies and searched for the protractors. There were a few choices of clear colored plastic and she chose a bright yellow for Cliff and made her way to the cash registers to pay for it, absently adding a few candy bars as a treat for not only herself but the kids, to her purchase.

Getting in the car and beginning to drive home, she fiddled with the radio, changing the station from Taylor's pop to an oldie station that always made her think of her parents. She continued home, automatically checking the lights before she entered the intersections, before a sixth sense kicked in.

Sue glanced to one side as she entered the intersection and gasped in horror at the sight of headlights bearing down on her. She automatically pressed down hard on the gas pedal, knowing that it was too late for her to even attempt stopping but hoping that she would be able to make it most of the way across the lanes of traffic before she was hit. Instinctively, she knew that she wouldn't make it and closed her eyes, thinking of her children as she braced for the impact she knew was coming…

TBC in Stage 1: Denial

Thanks to Nat, who beta'd this for me.


	2. Stage One: Denial

**Stage One: "Denial"**

Eileen Draper grabbed hold of the door handle and braced herself as Tony Brooks shot into the intersection against the light, screaming as there was a sickening thud that jerked her hard against her seatbelt to the chorus of whining metal, the noise almost drowned out by the Tony's frantic honking of the horn. Her eyes closed against the lights as her head jerked back hard against the cushioned seat, leaving her slightly dazed and with an instant headache. Almost immediately her eyes opened and she looked over to her companion, heart thudding heavily in her chest as she took in Tony's form slumped over the steering wheel and the broken glass.

"Tony? Tony!" She reached out and touched his shoulder, eyes drifting closed in relief for a brief second as he groaned and lifted his head. "Oh, God, are you all right?"

He lifted one hand to his throbbing forehead and then pulled it away, inspecting the red blood with blinking eyes. "I feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck," he joked. "Am I close?"

Eileen shook her head slightly and touched the side of his face that wasn't covered in blood form the bleeding scalp wound. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? We need to get you out of here."

Tony looked around the car in confusion. "Out of here?" He nodded once, decisively, and began fumbling with his seatbelt ineffectively until Eileen sighed and reached over to undo it.

She quickly got out of the car on her side and walked around to help Tony out of the driver's side, steadying him in case of any dizziness. He seemed all right, so Eileen stepped back and pulled out her cell phone. Fingers shaking slightly, she dialed the three digits that everyone hoped not to: 911. "I'd like to report an accident," she said when the operator picked up, going on to give the place and number of vehicles involved. Hanging up, she looked over to where Tony was now sitting on the concrete, peering at the car that they'd hit. As Eileen walked over to him, he looked up and blinked owlishly.

"That doesn't look like no Mack truck," he slurred, the phrase barely intelligible.

Eileen sighed and, realizing there was no way Tony could talk to the cops that night, once again dialed her phone, this time the number for a taxi company that she often used when she didn't feel like driving. Arranging a pick-up a few blocks away from the crash site, she helped Tony up and began walking him in that direction, telling him to keep walking until he reached a certain store, and then went back to the crash, hoping that he remembered it.

Standing close to the light blue car, she absently thought about what she had already halfway planned before getting out of the car, she waited for the police, ambulance, and fire trucks to arrive. They did in short order, lights and sirens blazing through the night. Eileen was immediately pulled further away from the light blue car and checked over by a paramedic, who was surprised by the fact that Eileen didn't have a scratch on her.

As rescuers helped the driver of the other car, a police officer took a preliminary statement from Eileen, getting her name and number. Not correcting his assumption that Eileen was the driver of the other car for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that not only was it her car but that she'd sent Tony off, she gave the needed information but spun it in such a way that it was the other driver's fault.

'No, sir, the car came out of nowhere. There wasn't time to stop. Yes, sir, I did have a glass of champagne earlier. Of course I'm willing to submit to a test for you to check my blood alcohol level.'

On and on it went, until both Eileen and the police officer looked over as the rescuers pulled the other driver out of the car, a brunette female about Eileen's own age. She was covered in blood from scratches that occurred when the window shattered and the force of impact from Eileen's car had shoved the driver's side door in. The frenzy abruptly slowed, the rescuers and paramedics no longer hurried before they moved the body into a brightly colored bag and zipped it up, a time-weary gesture that made Eileen's stomach twist and her face drain of color, a fine trembling beginning in her hands, which she clasped together on front of her.

For the first time that night, she thought of the other person: not just as an anonymous driver, but a young woman. Did she have a family? Would she be missed?

The police officer reached out and gently touched her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, noticing how shaken she was. Deciding that the woman had been through enough for one day, he asked if there had been any witnesses.

Eileen kept her focus on the body bag as she reeled off the names and numbers for both Tony Brooks and Ray Ramirez, a man she knew would back up any story she spun. As her car was being towed that night, the officer offered to drive her home, an offer that she gratefully accepted. Begging a few moments to make a phone call, she walked out of casual hearing and once again dialed her phone number, calling Ray Ramirez to tell him that she'd given his name to the police and that, if he cooperated, his debts to her would be forgiven. Confident that he would, as he was unable to pay off his debts in the foreseeable future, she hung up and gave a shaky smile to the waiting officer. Sliding into the backseat of the squad car, she took a deep breath and averted her eyes from outside, something made hard by the still flashing lights.

They pulled up outside Eileen's house, a trip made in the blink of an eye, it seemed to Eileen. Thanking but declining the officers' offer to go inside with her, Eileen made her way to the front door on slightly shaking legs, shock and reaction finally setting in.

What had she done? Lied to the police, blamed some innocent woman for her own death simply to save her own skin?

Had Eileen Boutwell Draper sunk so low that she would do that?

The answer, which brought a quick rush of nausea and clamminess to her skin, was simple: yes.

No! She hadn't caused the accident; she hadn't been in either driver's seat, she hadn't been driving drunk, and she hadn't been the person who ran the red light. It wasn't her fault. Even lying to the police was understandable: she could lose everything if Charles found out about her and Tony. She had to protect herself. Didn't everyone say that it was a dog-eat-dog world and only the fittest survive? Eileen survived the car crash; that woman didn't. Eileen was the fittest and she would ensure her survival. Right?

"Yes!"

The single word echoed through the tiled foyer, causing a passing maid to jump slightly before looking at her mistress in concern. Knowing that her concern would not be appreciated, she hurried to take Eileen's coat and inquire as to whether she had a nice time at the wedding.

Eileen's affirmative answer, half mumbled, did nothing to ease the maid's concerns, and she quickly hung up the coat and left the foyer as Eileen, who had seemed rooted to the spot just inside the door, stumbled into the parlor and her husband's fully stocked bar. She skipped her usual glass of white wine and went straight for her husband's beverage of choice: single malt scotch. She poured herself a glass and drank it quickly, gagging at the taste before relishing the burn that trailed its' way down her throat to her stomach. She quickly poured a second glass and knocked it back before turning and stumbling back to the foyer and the stairs that would take her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling horribly filthy and in desperate need of a shower or long bath.

She continued her forward movement even as the phone rang, knowing that someone else would answer it. Sure enough, a maid did before coming to find her.

"Mrs. Draper?" came the hesitant question.

Eileen turned extremely carefully so as not to lose her balance and looked at the young blonde. "Yes?"

"It's your husband, ma'am," she offered.

Eileen sighed and descended the few stairs she had taken. "I'll answer it in here. Thank you, Gretchen."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Draper." Gretchen made her escape quickly and was out of sight as Eileen lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Charles."

"How was the wedding, dear? I hope that you gave my regards to the bride and groom," came the cheerful voice from the other side of the continental United States.

"Of course I did," she answered quietly, the tremor in her body relating to the one in her voice as everything that she had done that night hit her full-force.

"Did something happen, Eileen?"

"Oh, um," she paused, not wanting to get into it but knowing that she had to, "I'm just a little shaken up, Charles. I was in a car accident earlier."

"Were you injured?" was the immediate question.

"Not even a scratch, Charles. I promise."

Charles expressed his relief and they chatted for a few more minutes, much of it Charles' offering to fly home immediately and Eileen assuring him that it wasn't necessary, Eileen eventually begging off to take her shower and promising to call him in the morning.

Eileen hung the ivory-colored phone up carefully before clasping her trembling hands together in front of her and stared sightlessly at them for several long moments before she leant back, relishing the feel of the cool wall against her over-heated body. The tears that she had valiantly tried to hold back through the long interview at the crime scene and the phone calls she had both made and received that evening began their silent trek down her pale cheeks as Eileen slid down the wall to sit on the bottom step. There was the barest moment before she buried her face in her hands and her slim shoulders began to shake with her silent sobs.

TBC in Stage 2: Anger


	3. Stage Two: Anger

**Stage Two: "Anger"**

The door clicked shut behind the police officer, the noise loud in the silent house, and all of the occupants looked to each other with the same disbelief and horror mirrored in their eyes. It was Taylor who broke the unnatural silence, turning to her younger brother with accusing eyes that were filled with tears. "This is all your fault!"

Cliff turned to her, his own eyes filled with tears that he wouldn't shed right now; he had to stay strong for them, especially Hannah. "My fault?"

"You and your stupid protractor! If you hadn't bitched at mom and made her go get it, she'd still be alive!"

"Taylor!" Jeannie, trapped by Hannah's dead weight as the little girl watched the argument, tried to intervene before more was said that couldn't be taken back.

"No!" Taylor turned to Jeannie, a militant light in her eye, before looking back to Cliff with disgust. "If he hadn't made her feel so guilty about her forgetting it earlier, she wouldn't have rushed out right then to get it. It's his fault!"

"It's no one's fault, Taylor. It was an accident, a stupid, blameless accident," Jeannie reminded her.

"That's not what the police said," Taylor fired back. "They said the accident was mom's fault, that she ran a red light." She pointed one finger at her brother accusingly. "She was only there because of him; that makes it _his_ fault," she charged.

"Taylor," Hannah began to speak up hesitantly, only wanting to end the fighting."

"How does is feel to know that your big brother killed your mom, Hannah?" Taylor asked without turning to the little girl, hearing the clearly audible gasp from Jeannie while she kept her eyes on her younger brother.

"Taylor May Woodall!"

Taylor turned derisive eyes to Jeannie as she continued talking to her sister. "Well, Hannah? A big brother's supposed to take care of you, look out for you. How do you think Cliff's doing so far?"

Cliff flinched at the verbal attack, moving slightly away from his older sister.

"Taylor! This isn't helping. Calm down, okay?"

"You're not my mother," she answered coldly, with hurt easily heard shimmering beneath the frost of her tone. "I don't have one anymore, remember?"

"Oh, honey.' Jeannie reached out to touch Taylor's arm and pull her down onto the sofa where she and Hannah were. The simple movement was aborted when Taylor pulled away from it, stepping back out of reach.

"Don't touch me!"

"Taylor…" Cliff began hesitantly, stopping when Taylor turned to him again.

"Don't talk to me," she said slowly, clearly enunciating every word as if she were speaking to a small child or someone who was mentally retarded.

"Taylor…" he tried again, knowing even as he did that it was a mistake. Unfortunately, it was one that he had to make.

"I said don't talk to me! You killed my mother, Cliff! As surely as if you held a loaded gun to her head and pulled the trigger!" Taylor felt her lips beginning to tremble and clamped them tight, not wanting to break down and cry because she knew that if she did, she wouldn't stop. On much the same note, she didn't want to say what she was, but that couldn't seem to stop her; some demon lay deep within her, urging her on.

"I didn't!" he yelled back, finally losing his temper.

They continued for a few minutes, trading insults that had once been good-natured quips between siblings but were not filled with bitter recriminations, completely ignoring Jeannie's attempts to stop the fighting without leaving Hannah on the sofa alone.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Hannah's repetitive shrieks made both of them turn, guiltily aware that they had entirely forgotten their youngest sibling's existence. Tears were rolling down the young girl's cheeks, as much from the trauma of losing her mother as from listening to her brother and sister fight. "You shouldn't be fighting!"

Taylor spoke her name and made an abortive move to the young girl, stopping when she flailed an arm in gesture.

"No! Mommy always hates it when you fight," she reminded them, sniffling. "She always says that brothers and sisters should love each other. That you'll be glad you have a family."

"Oh, I'm real glad," the sixteen year-old muttered, just loud enough for Cliff to hear as she rolled her eyes. "Having a selfish little brother and bratty little sister is all I could ever ask for," she continued sarcastically.

"He's not selfish," Hannah heatedly defended her older brother, "and I'm not bratty!" She pushed herself away from Jeannie and stood up from the sofa. "You're a bitch!" Hannah ignored both Jeannie's gasp and Taylor's gaping at her use of a word that she'd heard during recess one day from a group of older kids and ran upstairs, just wanting to get away from the fighting.

Taylor turned to Cliff and glared at him again. "Now look at what you've done!"

Cliff sat up straighter from where he had slumped down on a chair while Hannah was talking. "Me? Me!?"

"Yes, you!"

"I don't see how Hannah being upset is my fault," he said coldly, glaring at her. "I'm not the one who mouthed off instead of doing what you're supposed to do." Cliff's tone and continued glare left no one in doubt of whom he blamed for Hannah's leaving the room.

"What I'm supposed to do?" Taylor blinked in surprise and repeated the question, incredulity and anger clear. "Tell me, dear brother," she continued, sarcasm dripping, "just what am I supposed to do? You being such an expert on family and doing the right thing; guide me, Oh Great One. Show me the error of my ways. She waiting barely a heartbeat for a response and then continued in the same biting tone. "Should I go out and kill our father, complete the job you started of turning us into orphans? Oh, wait – no need to: he already abandoned us; decided we weren't worthy of his attention or love. I wonder why," she stated more than questioned, her gaze on her younger brother's pale face. "Well," she shrugged, "it sure makes your job a helluva lot easier, doesn't it?"

"My job as what?" He yelled the question, responding to anger with anger, his voice as loud as Taylor's. "As a son, an older brother? _That's_ your job," he charged. "To be an older sister to your younger siblings. You're supposed to protect them, comfort them. Not take what little stability Hannah has left right now and shatter it to pieces," he finished quietly. "Hannah was right; you are a bitch. She just forgot to add spoiled and selfish."

Taylor paled under her brother's direct stare, the full weight of just what she had said to not only Hannah but Cliff falling on her shoulders and causing her to turn a stricken gaze to Jeannie briefly before looking back to Cliff. "Cliff," she said quietly, all of the anger, sarcasm, and disgust drained from her body, gone from her voice. She reached out in an effort to connect and a nonverbal apology, taking a step in his direction. She stopped when he put a single hand in the air and shook his head.

"Don't touch me," he repeated her earlier words quietly, with none of the anger that had been present when she'd spoken them. "Don't even come near me," he continued in a voice heavy with grief and weariness.

"Cliff," she said again, pausing when he shook his head. She plunged on, desperate to continue. "I'm sorry! Cliff, I'm sorry!"

"I'm not interested in any apologies you want to make, Taylor." As her stricken look worsened, Cliff sighed and went with his instincts and nature: he was the man of the house and it was his job to protect and comfort his sisters as much as he was able. "You're my sister, Taylor, and I love you. I just don't like you very much right now.'

"Cliff," she tried again, only to be cut off.

"Don't! Just don't talk to me right now!"

Taylor turned and followed Hannah's example, running up the stairs as she had earlier even as Cliff left the house. Taylor was aware of the door slamming behind her brother's exit and moved faster, closing her own door with a violence that made the mirror hanging on the back of it to fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking. She spared no thought to the reflective glass, moving to her stereo and turning the music up loudly in an effort to block her thoughts. She threw herself on the bed, curling around a picture of her family as it had been, and finally began to cry. She attempted to ruthlessly push the thoughts swirling in her head down, not wanting to think about the anger she felt towards her mother, her brother, herself; the hatred she felt towards herself. She didn't succeed, the whirlpool continuing its' frantic motion.

Why had Sue abandoned them? After so many years of anger towards her absentee father, Taylor now had another face to add to the line-up of people who'd abandoned her.

Why had she lashed out at Cliff, at Hannah, at Jeannie, innocent bystanders who wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to be there for her?

Why hadn't she been able to control the demon inside her that bubbled up, making her resentful and angry, disgusted with herself and everyone else?

She really was a bitch, though the charge from her brother and sister hurt. Was she really spoiled and selfish?

Was she really so weak that without her mother standing behind her, she couldn't stand on her own?

Was it possible that the broken bonds of what was left of her family could be repaired?

What were they going to do now?

TBC in Flashback # 3


	4. Stage Three: Bargaining

I'd just like to thank everyone for their reviews :) I've enjoyed reading them and knowing people like this story.

****

**Stage Three: "Bargaining"**

Hannah slammed her bedroom door shut in an attempt to block the sound of the still raised voices that drifted up the stairs and flung herself onto the bed, her small body shaking with sobs. She groped for the stuffed brown rabbit her mother had given her a few months ago and clutched it to her chest, curling around it as she continued to cry. The voices continued to drift upwards, the content muffled even though the emotions were clear.

Raising wet eyes, completely ignoring the tears still running down her cheeks, she looked at the old-fashioning pink-and-gold cross that was placed on the wall above her window. The cross was a keepsake from her mother's childhood, something that had watched over her when she was young and now watched over Hannah in the same way. It normally brought Hannah a sense of peace and contentment, of safeness and stability. Today all of that was gone.

"Why?" she asked angrily as she stared at the symbol of faith and of God. "She wasn't supposed to die!"

She was silent for a few heartbeats, not entirely sure of whether she was waiting for an answer or simply catching her breath.

"If you bring her back, Cliff and Taylor'll stop fighting," she promised, never taking her eyes off the cross. "And I'll be good; I promise!"

Hannah abruptly reached out for the pad of paper she kept by her bed so that she could write herself notes and threw it, pages spinning as it flew through the air and impacted the wall with a thud before falling in a heap onto the carpeted floor.

"We still need her!" she shouted before lowering her voice having had enough raised voices to last a lifetime and continued, though it remained accusing. "You know everything. You should know that!"

The yelling downstairs stopped abruptly and soon after feet could be heard pounding up the stairs as a door downstairs slammed shut. It was instantly echoed by the sound of another, closer door closing with a bang. It was immediately followed loud music being turned on, the pulsing beat easily being heard.

Hannah curled up in a tighter ball around the stuffed rabbit, one thumb automatically finding its' way to her mouth. It was something she had done as a baby but had stopped years ago. Taking her eyes off the cross that was nailed to the wall, she closed them and rested her head heavier on the pillow that was already damp with tears.

"Give her back…please" was said quietly, the last thing before sobs shook her body once more.

There was a quiet knock at the door before it opened, bright light from the hallway spilling into the dim room along with more of the blasting music. "Hannah?"

The little girl shifted at Jeannie's voice, at once both grateful for and resenting the woman's intrusion into her space and grief. She was aware of Jeannie coming further into the room, sitting down on the side of the bed and putting one hand on Hannah's shoulder, the warmth seeping through the thin nightgown she wore.

"Hannah, I'm sorry if what happened downstairs upset you. It shouldn't have happened."

Hannah sniffed and shifted again. "It's not your fault," she assured the older woman. "It's all that stupid Taylor's fault," she condemned her older sister's actions.

"She's upset and she's taking it out on the closest convenient scapegoat," Jeannie soothed quietly. "You do know that it's not really Cliff's fault, right?" She asked the question hesitantly, unsure what she'd do if the little girl followed in her sister's footsteps and accused the growing boy.

Hannah nodded, silent for a moment, before she used one hand to brush the tears off her face. "The officer said it was Mommy's fault."

Jeannie said nothing, unable to dispute the fact that the officer had informed them that, according to witnesses, the accident, and therefore her death, was Sue's fault. The hand on Hannah's shoulder moved up, combing through soft brown hair in a gesture of comfort.

Hannah looked up at Jeannie for the first time since the older woman had invaded her bedroom. "Doesn't Mommy want to live with us anymore? Want to love us?"

"Oh, honey, of course she does," Jeannie said softly as she continued to stroke Hannah's hair. "But she can't; it was her time to go. That doesn't mean that she stopped loving you. She'll never stop loving you."

"But what's going to happen to us, Jeannie? Where are we going to live? Who's going to take care of us?" Hannah sat up quickly, looking at the older woman. "Will you?"

"I'll always be here for you, sweetie, but no, I'm not going to be the one taking care of you. Your mother wanted your aunt to take care of you if anything happened to her. We talked about it a few times."

"Aunt Zoe?" Hannah looked over to where a collection of postcards was pinned to a bulletin board, all of them from her travel-loving aunt. "She lives in Vegas! Will we have to move to Vegas?" Hannah thought about it, the city her mother and aunt had told her about but that she'd never visited; they were actually supposed to go on a family vacation there this summer. She shook her head. "I don't think I want to live in Vegas, Jeannie."

"I'm sure Las Vegas is a wonderful city to live in," Jeannie told her, not wanting to promise the little girl that she wouldn't have to move; there was no telling where the family would end up. "And your Aunt Zoe will do what's right for all of you."

"But what if she thinks moving is right? I don't want to move, Jeannie!" She started crying again, the thought of moving the one shock too many that had hit her system that night.

Jeannie gathered Hannah's body into her arms and began rocking her as she had her own children and grandchild. "Shh," she said repeatedly as she continued stroking Hannah's long hair in a soothing caress. "Everything's going to be all right,' she promised quietly. "In the end, everything is going to be all right."

"How can everything be all right? Nothing's ever going to be all right again!" Hannah struggled to pull away from Jeannie, the older woman not loosening her grip and Hannah eventually falling back into the embrace, completely boneless. "Mommy's gone and Taylor hates us and now we have to leave our home and our friends and move to a whole new place in a whole 'nother state!"

Unable to reassure the little girl that she wasn't going to have to move, Jeannie simply continued to rock, murmuring soothingly nonsensical sayings against the top of her head as the girl clutched tightly to both Jeannie and the rabbit. After a long while, Hannah began to tire, the shocks of the day catching up to her, and Jeannie gently maneuvered her so that she was lying down on the bed with her head on the pillow. "You should try to get some sleep, Hannah."

"I don't want to sleep!" Hannah struggled to sit up before accepting the gentle push and resting back on the bed. "Jeannie," she tried, quieting when the older woman put a finger to her lips in a time-honored gesture for silence.

"You need to sleep, Hannah. Staying awake isn't going to change anything," Jeannie told her quietly, knowing that it may be harsh but that it was honest. One thing she had never done was lie to a child.

"Is Cliff home yet?" The worry and anxiety that Hannah felt for her brother was clear in her voice.

"I didn't hear him come in, but I'll check. If he isn't, I'll wait and make sure he's home safe and have him come tell you, okay?"

Hannah nodded, her glance sliding away from Jeannie.

Jeannie reached out and touched her chin, making the girl look at her. "I want you to try to sleep, okay?"

Hannah sighed and nodded, shifting to get more comfortable in her bed.

"Will you call Aunt Zoe?"

Jeannie smiled and nodded, once again stroking her soft hair. "I'll call her and explain everything. I promise."

Hannah nodded and shifted again. She was asleep before Jeannie even reached the doorway, her slow breathing only interrupted by the occasional hiccup or hitch.

TBC in Stage 4: Depression


	5. Stage Four: Depression

Just a few quick notes:

1) Many thanks to those who have reviewed this story so far. I've been using it as a form of therapy after a death in my family, and it feels good to know that some people find it interesting.

2) Life has been a bit crazy while writing this story and I've been dealing with packing, moving, unpacking, waiting for the computer to be set up, waiting to get the rest of my belongings, and looking for a job during it. In fact, the majority of the packing and moving happened while I was writing this part. I thank you for your patience in waiting for this part. The stage after this and the epilogue are smaller, so there shouldn't be as much of a wait. At least, I hope not.

3) Many thanks to Nat for stepping in as a beta halfway through the story.

4) My love to Abs and her Mum. I hope that you're both doing well.

and now onto the story.....

****

**Stage Four: "Depression"**

Zoe hung up the phone with exaggerated carefulness, staring blankly ahead at the plain peach painted wall of the staff lounge, a color that was supposed to 'promote an air of peace and quiet as opposed to the frenetic energy found in the popular Las Vegas casino,' according to owners and managers of said casino. The color reminded most workers of hospital hallways and waiting rooms, containing no personality but serviceable for a large group of people with differing aesthetic tastes - one which was wildly opposite from Zoe's own tastes. Tonight, it was both a haven and a curse of blandness, nothing catching her attention, and therefore allowing her to drift dangerously in her thoughts. She had just finished talked with Jeannie Garrett, her sister's current neighbor and a woman whom both girls had always loved talking to when they were young children. Normally the contact with her original home and family was something that Zoe treasured, but never before had she expected this.

Sue, her bright, brilliant sister… Someone who loved life as much as Zoe, though perhaps lived it with less zeal because of familial responsibilities… A beautiful woman who was always smiling and looking on the bright side of whatever may happen… was dead – killed that evening by an accident that she herself caused.

It was a foreign concept to Zoe, who had always viewed her older sister as somewhat immortal. Her immediate thought was one of total disbelief, quickly followed by disbelief and the urge to call Sue and share the joke. She could no longer call her sister to talk long into the night or to rant about the latest in a long line of disappointing dates and relationship prospects. Never again would she be able to sit and laugh, living family life vicariously through various stories in which humor, love, and exasperation all had equal standings. Never again would she feel the comforting arms around her and know that everything would be all right.

The universe had twisted, fallen over on its side, and nothing would be right again.

Zoe's blank mind suddenly raced with everything that she had heard that night, starting with Sue's accident, the worry-laced tone Jeannie had used when she spoke of the kids, and ending with Jeannie's final question.

_The kids need you, Zoe. When will you be here? _

Abruptly, she remembered the last time Sue had visited Zoe in Vegas, sans children, and one of the many into-the-night conversations they had shared. Everything had been light-hearted and full of laughing until Sue had turned serious, taking a deep breath and asking Zoe if she would take care of the children in the event that anything happened to her. Zoe could still remember her response, scoffing followed by a smile and nod. 'Of course I will, sis. I'll always be here for you and them. Anyway, what could possibly happen to Wonder Woman?' A typically flippant comment thrown out to ease the tension and seriousness, two things that Zoe always claimed that she was allergic to. Had Sue known that something was going to happen – was that why she'd suddenly asked that? The topic was dropped until the day Sue had left to go back to Chicago, when she'd produced papers for Zoe to sign, papers drawn up by lawyers stating that she would become the children's legal guardian should anything happen to their biological mother.

"Zoe?"

She turned quickly at the sound, not having heard anyone enter the employee lounge, and was faced with Belle Richman, a woman who had quickly become one of Zoe's good friends. "Belle," she said quietly before frowning and clearing her throat because of the choked-sounding name.

The brunette turned away from the counter and looked over, concern darkening her warm brown eyes to black. "Is everything okay?"

Zoe reached up to surreptitiously wipe her cheeks free of any moisture that may have gathered and offered a strained smile, nodding. "Yeah, Belle, everything's fine." She looked around the room, then, and realized that she had to get out of there, that there was no way she could go back to her table and smile as she offered witty comments and flirted with gambling patrons, no way that she could stay and make small talk with people she worked with, both acquaintances and friends. "Actually, everything's not fine," she amended her earlier answer and quickly continued, not wanting to have to explain anything to her co-worker: "Do you think it would be all right if I cut out early?"

Belle looked over Zoe and slowly nodded, never having known the sandy blonde to skip work unless it was something extremely important. "You go," she offered, "and I'll go clear it with Roxanne. If someone can't be called in, I'll stay and manage your table," she promised.

Zoe offered a grateful, if somewhat strained, smile and nodded again. Before Belle could say anything more, Zoe abandoned her post by the phone and went to her locker, pulling her things out and slinging on her long multi-colored woven jacket without even thinking about changing from her work uniform to casual clothing and gathering up her purse before starting to the door. She paused and squeezed Belle's shoulder as she offered another nod before leaving quickly. Hurrying through the casino, Zoe offered automatic smiles to people but refused to make real eye contact or stop to talk, even when friends said her name, and she soon reached the street.

Blinking in the evening sun, she looked around in bemusement as if wondering just how she had gotten there. Jostled by someone walking by, she shook herself from her stupor and started walking down the street, needing the relatively clear air and knowing that the person she sought wouldn't be that far away. Ten blocks later, she made her way through the informal-style restaurant to the kitchens, nodding greetings to harried looking waiters and waitresses. A blonde in the normal uniform of brown leather miniskirt, knee high stiletto heeled boots, an extremely tight pale pink t-shirt, and a small red apron soon came close and enveloped Zoe in an enthusiastic hug.

"Zoe! What are you doing here, girl? Weren't you called into the casino to pinch-hit?"

Suddenly unable to speak, Zoe could only look at Candy La Rue, her best friend in the world, and nod as her eyes filled with the tears she'd fought until now.

"Zoe? What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at _La Roacherie_," she gave the nickname of David's place, "later? Is something wrong? Did something bad happen? Oh, God, you wouldn't cry for anything small, of course something bad happened," Candy castigated herself, the intimately familiar rambling causing Zoe to laugh chokingly. Looking around them, Candy continued talking, partly to Zoe and partly to herself, hoping to reassure herself while her normally strong friends showed unusual signs of weakness. "I came in because Crys had a doctor's appointment and needed someone to fill in, but you already know that; I called your cell. Hold on one minute, okay? I'll go turn in my apron and we'll get out of here and you can tell Candy everything, okay?"

Before Zoe knew it, Candy had whirled away and was shouting over the din for Vinnie, the owner of the fine establishment that they were in. A quick argument later, evidenced more by visuals than anything heard, and Candy was escorting Zoe out of the café and down the street, both still in their uniforms. They caught a taxi and Candy gave the address and directions before falling silent, Zoe staring out the window without seeing anything and Candy watching her friend. The driver, in the tradition of cab drivers everywhere, was blissfully unaware of any undercurrents between his passengers, happily chatting about this and that and occasionally yelling out the window at hapless drivers who got in his way.

They arrived at Springbrook Gardens, the apartment complex where they both lived, and Candy helped Zoe out of the cab before bending to pay the driver and then steering Zoe into the building. Instead of going to Zoe's apartment, they went past the door to Candy's. It was a credit to just how out of it Zoe was that she did not even mention going past one apartment to get to the other. Candy quickly unlocked the door and they went inside, both women automatically taking off their shoes in movements that showed familiarity and habit, before Candy escorted Zoe to where a beige sofa was resting against the wall and sat her down before curling up a cushion away herself.

"Okay, Zoe," she spoke finally, "you tell your big sister everything," she admonished, waving a finger and putting her rarely used serious-face on for the slightly younger woman's benefit. It was often used as a joke between them, for both Candy being two months older and the fact that Candy had been living on her own since she was sixteen, a lot longer than Zoe. Because of that, Candy was unprepared for Zoe's eyes to fill with tears before she leant forward and put her face in her hands, shoulders beginning to shake. "Zoe? Hey, girl, it's going to be okay," Candy said, hoping that the promise was true, "but I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on." She waited for a minute or so, time that was silent except for Zoe's continued sobs. "You're starting to scare me here, chica," she finally said before shrugging and bending over to offer Zoe some measure of comfort and support. "What did I say wrong?"

It took close to another minute before Zoe could answer, and then it was a choked and barely decipherable "big sister" before the tears started again in earnest.

Not understanding what was wrong, Candy followed her true nature and went for levity, offering to make Zoe the honorary big sister, claiming that it was time Zoe aged a few months anyhow.

It gained a watery smile, tears still present, and a choked laugh before the smile faded and Zoe shook her head. "I'm all there is, now," she finally said. At Candy's look of incomprehension, Zoe took a deep breath, wanting to get everything out in the open in one quick shot so that she could once again drown in her sorrow, secure in the knowledge that her best friend was there, that she was no longer alone. "Jeannie called – I told you about her, our neighbor? She's lived across from us since we were kids. Sue had to run an errand and she was in a car accident," Zoe explained, stopping, unable to come out and say that her sister was dead.

Candy was silent, hoping that the woman she had only met twice had merely been injured, but knowing that it was unlikely given Zoe's comment of being all there was. Instead of pushing her friend, she offered silent support, patiently waiting for Zoe to say whatever she had to say.

"The police officers said that she was killed almost instantly. She didn't suffer," Zoe told her before tears welled up even more and she leant towards Candy, accepting the embrace the other blonde offered. "Oh, God, Candy, I don't know what I'm going to do now. She's always been there if I needed her. I always knew that she could help me with anything; all I had to do was ask."

"She was cool," Candy murmured in agreement, giving one of her highest regards to the recently deceased woman.

Zoe nodded and clutched Candy tighter.

They stayed that way for what seemed like an interminable amount of time but what actually amounted to an hour, Zoe alternately crying and dozing off into an extremely light sleep, remembering parts of her life where Sue played a prominent role, while Candy offered what comfort she could, until Zoe shifted away from the other woman and sniffed.

"I must look awful," was the first thing she said, something to utterly feminine that they both laughed, glad to release the tension somehow. "And I have a headache," she stated, frowning. "This is why I hate crying; it always gives me a killer headache that takes days to get rid of and it makes me look like Beetlejuice."

Glad that she finally had something she could truly help with, Candy got up from the sofa, stretching. "Why don't you take a couple of aspirin and a nice, hot shower? I'll figure out something for us to eat."

"Please tell me that you're not going to cook," Zoe joked.

Candy grimaced, knowing that her few cooking attempted were infamous for good reason. "I can pretty much promise you that," she said with a laugh. "I think you've had enough trauma for one day." Candy stopped abruptly and bit her bottom lip, wondering how her friend was going to take the comment and relieved when Zoe only gestured with one hand as she went into the one bedroom in the apartment.

"Anything but your cooking," was heard before the water turned on.

Candy frowned, unsure if she should be insulted, but then shrugged and went into the kitchen, opening a drawer and pulling out a thick stack of take-away menus for nearby restaurants. She sorted through them quickly, not entirely sure what Zoe was going to want, but knowing that it would be something the other woman considered comfort food. Deciding on a restaurant that was known for its' wide selection of foods from all around the country, she called to place the order and then made her way into the bedroom, casually stripping the now wrinkled uniform as she did and dropping it on the floor beside Zoe's.

Grabbing clothing to change into, Candy went to the open door and spoke loudly so that Zoe could hear her over the water. "I'm going to have to go pick it up, ok? I won't be gone long. Just take your time!" At Zoe's 'okay,' Candy got into her clothes and left the apartment, intent on her mission.

Zoe leant her head against the cool blue and white tile of the shower, relishing the heat beating her back. The rising steam was utterly blissful to her senses and she stood there for long minutes before she stretched and turned, reaching for the control. Turning the heat down, way down, she shuddered as her nude body was assaulted by cool water and almost turned it back up before shaking her head and stepping under it, allowing the water to cool her face and hopefully release some of the puffiness from her eyes. Lifting her hands up to make a shield so that she could continue to breathe even while her face was under the water, she stayed there, the coolness just as welcome as the heat had been earlier. Knowing that Candy would probably be back soon, she turned the hot water again once more, merely wiping away any trace of chill before turning the water off all together and stepping from the stall as she wrapped herself in one of Candy's robin's egg blue towels.

Drying herself as she walked, she went into Candy's bedroom and opened one of the drawers of the dresser with the ease of long familiarity, looking for something to wear. She hit the jackpot in more ways than one, not only finding something to wear but also finding something that was actually hers. Finishing the drying job and changing, she went into the main part of the apartment just as Candy came back, laden with a large cardboard tray covered with Styrofoam boxes and plastic bags that already had condensation visible on them.

"Damn, you found them."

Zoe looked down at her outfit, a white sleeveless t-shirt with a scoop neck that was covered in neon pink, lime green, bright orange, and yellow squiggles and geometric designs and a pair of lime green pajama bottoms that had similar designs in pink, orange, yellow, and white, and shook her head. "I'll never understand why you didn't just buy yourself a set. You're always stealing mine," she half accused, though there was no sting to the words.

Candy shrugged and moved to the kitchen, dumping her burdens on the countertop. "It's easier to steal yours," she said as she pulled things from the plastic bags and began putting them away, revealing a plethora of junk food, from three types of ice cream to pound-sized bags of M&Ms, Zoe's candy of choice when upset. She turned back to look at Zoe, who was on the other side of the counter poking through the Styrofoam containers. "How're you doing?"

"I'm okay," Zoe offered. When silence met her comment, she looked up and shrugged, knowing that she couldn't hide anything from Candy even if she wanted to. "I'm as okay as I can be," she amended.

Candy nodded and left the kitchen, carrying utensils and their drinks. She carried them over to where the coffee table was, waiting as Zoe put the tray of food down and then began taking everything out. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I got some of everything," she explained when Zoe raised an eyebrow at the sheer amount of food. "Something tells me that we're both going to use up a lot of energy tonight." She paused, thinking over the comment and shaking her head. "You know what I mean."

Zoe nodded as they sat down. "Yeah, I do. But you don't have to stay, you know." Zoe looked around the apartment and shrugged. "Well, I don't have to stay," she amended, "I can always go to my apartment."

Candy cast a glare in her friend's direction. "You're not going anywhere. You're staying here tonight," she informed the darker blonde, tone brooking no arguments about it.

Zoe nodded absently, grateful that she wasn't going to be kicked out of this haven anytime soon. Not that she'd thought that Candy would have; the two women were extremely open with each other about everything, including having an open-door-policy between them at all times.

They ate, talking about friends they had in common, which were most, and movies they wanted to see, jobs they were thinking of trying for. It was general small talk that masked what both were really thinking, that allowed both of them a step back from the news that had rocked Zoe's world and, by association, Candy's. Zoe was unaware of what she ate, merely thinking that she was glad that Candy had made such good choices, but unsurprised by that fact. It wasn't until after the food had been combined and the containers had been either thrown away or put in the refrigerator and they were curled up together on the sofa, casually touching each other and with the bags of M&Ms and a carton of ice cream being shared between them, that Zoe dropped her bombshell, the one that had been preying on her mind since she had gotten out of her shower.

"I'm going to have to move."

Candy stiffened at the quiet statement, and looked down at the head that rested against her shoulder, sure that she had heard her wrong. "What?"

"I'm the kids' guardian," Zoe explained. "I'm going to have to go back to Chicago and take care of them."

"But you love Vegas!" Candy protested. When Zoe nodded in agreement, Candy pulled her into a closer hug. "We always said that if we moved on, we'd go together," she reminded her, "same way we came here."

"I know, but what am I supposed to do, Candy?" Zoe pulled back slightly to look up into her friend's face. "Completely uproot them by moving them to a brand new city that they've never been to before? Call David and let him take care of the kids – assuming that I can even get in touch with him? Let them go into foster care? I can't do that," she said, tears starting again as she shook her head. "Sue didn't want that," she paused a moment before continuing in a softer, gentler, voice, "and neither do I."

Candy said nothing for a long moment, contemplating just what life would be like in Las Vegas, Nevada without Zoe there. What life would be like anywhere without her best friend right there, something that she hadn't had to think about since she and Zoe first met twelve years prior. "I know you don't," she finally said. "You're just going to have to do what you have to do."

Zoe smiled slightly, glad that Candy wasn't going to make moving any more difficult than it was already going to be and aware that if her friend showed even the slightest amount of disapproval, it would make things terrible for Zoe. "We'll keep in touch," she promised.

"Damn straight we will! If you think I'm letting you get away from me that easily, you're way more fucked up than I've always thought," Candy teased, winking.

It got the desired effect, Zoe chuckling slightly before cuddling closer. "I just… My mind is alternating between whirlwind and total blankness. There's so much that I have to do but I can't concentrate on any of it," she said, frustration showing through clearly.

"You don't have to do anything," Candy responded fiercely, gaining a startled look from the woman in her arms, and she spoke again, softer. "Not tonight, Zoe. Don't worry about being strong or being Aunt Zoe, new guardian and boring-ass parent," the title elicited a slight smile and Candy continued, "don't worry about anything but grieving; just be a woman who lost her sister. You don't have to think about anything else tonight."

Zoe began to protest, even went so far as to open her mouth, but was stopped by Candy's long-nailed finger resting against her bottom lip.

"I don't want to hear it. I want you to focus on _you _tonight." Zoe began to protest again and Candy shook her head, continuing: "you need to, Zoe. Nothing'll happen. I'll be right here. I promise you."

Zoe's eyes once again filled with the hated tears, her body beginning to tremble under the shudders that racked it as she clutched Candy impossibly closer, free to truly grieve, at least in the dark of this night, secure in the knowledge that her best friend would be there, that she wasn't going to lose herself.

The next week was a blur of activity as Zoe not only began to pack up her apartment and informed her job that not only did she have to leave soon but she also required some of her vacation time between now and then. Zoe's well-liked status and the circumstances made everyone extremely agreeable. She also coordinated with Jeannie, who was staying at the Busiek home to take care of the kids, about Sue's funeral arrangements, unable to do everything long distance. The rest of her time was split between talking on the phone to the children when they would come to it, trying to help them as best she could, and spending time with Candy.

Her best friend was a trooper, from finding boxes and helping Zoe pack to offering a shoulder when everything hit the other woman afresh and she went on crying jags. She also stood fast as a column of support when Evan did nothing but attempt to undermine Zoe's resolve to move, pushing her towards putting her nieces and nephew in foster care and continuing to remain in Las Vegas. In short, she was as supportive as she always had been, something that Zoe was grateful for, the younger woman knowing that she couldn't have accomplished everything she had without her friend's help.

An eternity later, waking hours filled with frantic rushing and sleeping with restless tossing and turning, endless what ifs running in through her head, Zoe was at the airport waiting to board the plane that would take her to Chicago for her sister's funeral. Candy was with her, having refused even the idea of allowing Zoe to go alone, and the flight was made in relative silence, something unusual for two such talkative women.

They landed in Chicago and disembarked with little problem, collecting Zoe's luggage as she used this trip as a way to move some of her belongings, and finding a hotel that was in the vicinity of Zoe's house for Candy. The blonde had refused Zoe's offer of a roof over her head, knowing that things would be tense enough for the Busiek family without adding someone who was a stranger to the children. It was for that same reason that she was not attending the funeral; she merely wanted to be in Chicago if Zoe needed her.

Zoe paused in front of the house, immediately swamped by memories of growing up in it with Sue, before shaking herself and walking to the front door. Suddenly unsure of her welcome, she reached out a slightly trembling hand to use the knocker on the door and stepped back, waiting for someone to answer it. A scant minute that wasn't enough time for Zoe to collect her thoughts and the sound of pounding feet later, the door was flung open to reveal Hannah, the youngest of the children.

"Aunt Zoe!"

Zoe smiled as the little girl flung herself, stuffed rabbit and all, into her arms, lifting her and twirling her slightly. 'Hey, Hannah."

"Are you here to stay?"

Zoe paused at the question, causing the young girl to pull back and frown.

"You are staying, right? You have to stay to take care of us now that Mommy's…"

Zoe said nothing as her niece stopped, knowing that it was too soon to talk about Sue's death naturally, especially for her children, and responded by pulling Hannah back to her. "I'm going to have to go back to Vegas," Zoe told her honestly, "but just temporarily. I'll be coming back to live here permanently with you, so I can take care of you."

"You promise?"

Zoe nodded and smiled slightly. "I promise." Before she could say anything more, Hannah was gone, running into the house shouting that Aunt Zoe was there. Zoe moved hesitantly into the house. Grateful when Jeannie came out of the kitchen to greet her. "Jeannie." She received a hug from the older woman and was pulled further into the house; receiving hugs from both Taylor and Cliff on the way, Cliff's stilted as he continued listening to his music.

She spent the rest of the day wrapped in a warm cocoon of family, all of the hidden kernels of fear, of wondering if she could really do this, step in and take care of Sue's children the way her sister would have wanted, churning in her stomach. There were a few tense moments, as well as sad, when people were obviously thinking about Sue, and Zoe could have sworn at times that she saw Sue out of the corner of her eye or heard her rich chuckle float through the air. Every time she turned, hoping against hope that her sister was there, she was met with disappointment.

Plans were made for dinner at a nearby restaurant, one that everyone enjoyed, and Zoe called Candy to invite her to the meal, to meet her family. As expected, Candy turned the invitation down. Zoe had known she would, but extended the invitation anyway, wanting some semblance of normalcy. The Busiek family, plus Jeannie, went and ate dinner, over-bright conversation mingling with dead silence as everyone avoided mention of the person who wasn't with them and what they were doing the next day. Dinner completed, they went home and all went through their nightly rituals before going to their bedrooms to sleep or, more likely, cry. For her part, Zoe stayed up talking with Jeannie and, when the older woman went to bed, called the hotel to speak to Candy.

The next day dawned with a hazy brightness in the morning that crystallized quickly, weather that would normally be rejoiced in by those who lived in the Windy City but was ignored as funeral-goers donned black or gray clothing and solemn, grieving faces as they went to pay respect to a woman whose life ended too soon. The main exception to the black-or-gray clothing rule was Zoe, who did indeed where a black skirt and a jacket, but paired it with a shirt in brilliant purple, which was Sue's favorite color. From childhood, she had always said that it not only made her smile but reminded her of the royals throughout history and their regal lives, of knights and chivalry, things that her well-hidden romantic nature had always adored.

The funeral was typical of most funerals, the majority of it passing by in a haze as Zoe looked at the polished coffin that held the body of her sister. As Zoe longed to offer comfort to her nieces and nephew, her were sitting beside her in uncomfortable chairs, but instinctively knowing that they wanted to face this on their own as much as they could. The stalemate was broken by Hannah, who finally abandoned her seat and perched in Zoe's lap and burrowing as close as possible, unable to look at the coffin for a second longer. Soon after Zoe could feel a smooth, chilled hand seek hers and she looked to one side, nodding reassuringly to Taylor before holding onto the hand, not wincing at the answering, bruising grip. Cliff was the only one who didn't seek comfort in anyone, something that a worried Zoe noted as she watched the standoffish attitude the boy sported, the mental distance between him and his family far greater than the physical.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The funeral ended, the family receiving handshakes and hugs from a long line of mourners who made it a point to tell them what a wonderful person Sue was, and they made their way back to the house, which was well cleaned in preparation for the wake. Soon people that Sue had touched in her life had crowded in to share food and anecdotes, to offer strength and advice. It was a good-sized gathering, full of both laughter and tears; one that told more about Sue's life than any speech made by a priest or written obituary could. Some only stayed a short while and some lingered into the night, but everyone left eventually, and Zoe carried a sleeping Hannah upstairs and put her to bed, passing Cliff, who was heading up as she went back down. The living room was in remarkably good condition given the crush of people, and Taylor was sitting in the middle of it, staring silently at the mantle of the fireplace where pictures resided. Without a word, Zoe crossed the room and hugged her, letting go only when the teenager pulled away and went upstairs with a slight smile of thanks.

Zoe sighed and began the cleaning process, gratefully accepting Jeannie's help for a short time before sending the older woman home to sleep at her own house for a night. Picking up the phone, she dialed, smiling when the other end was picked up before the first ring had completed. She should have known that Candy expected a call tonight.

"Zoe?"

"Yeah, it's me," she said, keeping her voice down so as not to disturb the children as she continued cleaning the mess.

"How…" Candy hesitated, unsure just what she wanted to ask, before plunging on: "How are you? How was it?"

"It wasn't horrible," Zoe answered. "I think… I think Sue would have liked it. She definitely would have approved of the weather; she always loved days like today," Zoe reminisced, thinking of days in the past when the girls had gone to the pool together to lounge in chairs or their father had taken them to Lake Michigan's beach. "I'm okay," she said quietly as the comfortable silence stretched. "I'm not great by any means, but I'm okay."

Candy accepted the answer, knowing that Zoe would tell her anything on her mind, and the other woman did as they talked into the night. They continued talking long after Zoe finished her impromptu cleaning session and sat out on the porch, another place laden with memories of hot summer nights and large wedges of watermelon, of laughing with her sister as juice ran down their chins that they had contests to see who could spit the small black seeds the farthest. It wasn't until Zoe was on her makeshift bed on the sofa, knowing that she would be taking the master bedroom when she moved back but unable to take that step now that they finally hung up the phone, both feeling better.

The next day was quiet, the funeral and wake of the day before giving the entire episode one of finality to all of the children. Any fantasies that their mother was simply on a vacation and would be back soon had been shattered at the sight of the graveyard and the polished wood heaped with flowers. Zoe packed her belongings slowly, torn between going back to Vegas and tying up loose ends there or saying to hell with it and staying in Chicago where she could help her family. In the end, what she needed to do won out over what she wanted to do and she said her goodbyes, receiving tearful hugs and once again promising Hannah that she would be back.

The trip back to the airport was done easily, simply as a reverse of what they had done before. Zoe left the Busiek house alone and made her way to the hotel where Candy was staying. Her friend was already packed and waiting for her and they went to the airport together, just as they waited for the plane. The flight was once again largely silent, both lost in thoughts along similar lines. Zoe's moving back to Chicago was no longer 'in the future' but was now set in concrete. In a week, the Chicago native would be re-boarding an airplane that would take her back to the Windy City. Alone. Permanently.

It was a sobering thought to both women, and they both pulled together in the last week they would both spend in Vegas as friends, neighbors, and residents. Both worked, but time away from work was largely spent together as they both packed Zoe's belongings and made jokes, talking to each other with the ease of their long friendship as they stored of memories for when they'd no longer be together.

Evan once again hung around, telling Zoe that she was making a mistake, that there was no way she was responsible enough to take care of her sister's children; she wasn't adult enough, she wasn't smart enough, and she wasn't maternal enough. His list of reasons why she should stay in Las Vegas went on and on. With each repetition, Zoe grew more and more determined to go to Chicago and prove him – and everyone who thought what he did – wrong.

The flight she took back to Chicago was in no way silent; she spent the entire trip talking to the passenger next to her and the people she met, but a large part of it was talking to herself, reassuring herself that she was right in doing this, each of Evan's little barbs hitting far too close to home for comfort. She rented a car and went back to the home that she had grown up in, the home that had been Sue's for so long, the home that was now hers. For a long moment, all she could do was look up at the familiar façade, remembering one of the many times Sue had played the perfect big sister and helped Zoe through her latest crisis.

All too quickly she was drawn into the house and given the role of homemaker, of guardian and substitute mother. She pulled gifts out of her bag, wanting to let the kids know that she had thought about them while she was back in Vegas but feeling unaccountably foolish at these trite shows of affection that could be picked up on almost any corner of the Strip. Cliff was as uncommunicative as he had been a week before, and Hannah was much the same: trying hard to be happy and smiling but dropping the façade quickly. The real trial was Taylor, who had decided to take advantage of her aunt's lack of experience as a mother.

Her inability to find a job – any job – and a car that was eating far too much into her savings led Zoe to the home office of the company that insured her sister. What she learnt there infuriated her. Sue was responsible the accident? Her overly responsible, overly careful sister had caused the accident that resulted in her death? It was so ludicrous that, had people not actually believed it, Zoe would have found it funny.

Unable to accept what both the police and the insurance company had, Zoe began her own investigation.

She owed it to the kids. They couldn't live the rest of their lives thinking that Sue had caused her own death.

She owed it to Sue. There was no way that she would allow a lie to become the final period of her sister's life.

She owed it to herself.

TBC in Stage 5: Acceptance


	6. Stage Five: Acceptance

Stage Five: Acceptance 

Cliff ignored the dip of his mattress and the sweet smell of perfume in the air that signaled to him that he was no longer alone in his bedroom, keeping his eyes closed and the music that came from his portable CD player on, though he wasn't truly hearing the words. Instead, as it had ever since his mother died, all he could hear was the last things they said to each other, an argument caused by Cliff's own selfishness. The music that he was using in an attempt to drown out his thoughts, a useless attempt but one that gave him some measure of comfort was abruptly switched off. He continued to stay just how he was, not giving an inch in letting the other person know that he was aware of them.

"It wasn't your fault," was said softly.

Cliff ignored his aunt's voice, knowing that it was even as he wished that it wasn't. Everyone had said so, hadn't they? Taylor certainly had. He had been the one who'd made their mother go out and she'd never come back. The warmth of his aunt's hand was shocking as it touched his knee, Cliff having shied away from physical contact when possible, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"I promise, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault."

He watched Zoe through tear-filled eyes as she said that, wanting to believe her and knowing that she had no idea how to make things right if he didn't. It was silent in the attic bedroom for a long moment, a slice of time that seemed like an eternity to both occupants. The stalemate ended as he sat up abruptly and enfolded his aunt in a hug. Her arms wrapped themselves around him in a gesture of comfort that he hadn't allowed until that moment, his own tears burning his eyes as he fought against shedding them and hers freely falling down her cheeks, leaving trails of dampness again his skin. He gave up the fight, turning his head into her neck and allowing his hot tears to burn her skin as he held onto her tightly.

He reveled in the gentle rocking, so similar to that his mother had used to comfort him when he was younger and when he'd allow it as he grew. His aunt was still talking, mostly quiet murmurs of nonsensical phrases mixed with a few phrases in English, usually 'not your fault' and 'I promise.' Cliff gave a strangled laugh, knowing that his aunt would say each a million times if she believed it would help him. There was a reason why his mother had wanted her sister to take care of them if anything happened to her.

It was several long minutes later before he pulled back, face damp from his tears but not crying any longer, and, at his aunt's worried face, he offered a small smile of reassurance and a nod. "It's not my fault," he said, repeating what she'd been saying. "You promise." He was aware of his aunt watching him in shocked silence before she started chuckling.

"Yeah; it's not your fault; I promise. So, you got my message, huh?"

Grateful that she had not only made it a point for him to understand it, but was now trying to make the emotionally charged scene more lighthearted, he nodded. "What other choice did I have?"

"When'd you get to be such a smart ass?"

They looked at each other before dissolving into watery chuckles.

"I don't know," he said quietly, before continuing: "I must be soaking up your influence. Mom always said you were one."

"Hey!" The outraged tone was strangled by continued laughing and Cliff knew that Zoe wasn't really upset. The laughter died down as Zoe reached out to run her hand through Cliff's hair. "Everything's going to be all right, Cliff."

He hesitated for a split second before agreeing with her. "I know. That doesn't make it hurt any less."

"I… I honestly don't think it's supposed to," she answered. "You are… _we_ are… supposed to hurt right now. It's one of the prices you pay for loving someone."

"Well, it sucks,' he muttered, the sulky tone generating a chuckle from his aunt.

"Yeah, it does," she agreed. "But it's a part of life, Cliff. If you truly love someone, then you open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt." She shrugged slightly before continuing: "how else will you let someone in enough to truly know you, to love you? The pain… The pain reminds you that she was here, Cliff. It'll ease up soon. It won't hurt forever."

Cliff shrugged, not having an answer besides Zoe's simple 'it's a part of life' one. He didn't say anything, though he was aware that his aunt was waiting patiently for him to continue talking. Finally, he shook himself and said: "Aunt Zoe?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you…" he looked at her and took a deep breath. "Can you give me some time alone?" When he saw that she was about to protest, he continued quickly, giving her a few reasons. "You should probably check on the girls – especially Hannah – and see if Taylor needs anything." When he could see that she still wanted to protest, he offered her a small nod. "I'll be okay. I promise," he said with a slight smile.

"You sure?"

Cliff nodded again and then watched as Zoe got up from the bed and made her way to the top of the stairs. Once she reached it, she turned back, indecision clear in her face. "I'll be okay," he promised.

"You'll come get me if you want to talk? You won't become the silent music-man again?"

"I'll come get you if I want to talk."

In a moment she was gone, going down the stairs and closing the door to his bedroom behind her. Once the soft click could be heard, Cliff tensed. Unable to sit still for a minute longer, he tore off his headphones and jumped up from the bed, beginning to pace around the room.

Welcome to the first day of your new life, he thought. Nothing was going to be the same from this moment. But it was right that it was that way; life is about changing, about experiencing new things. Hadn't his mother always said so? Hadn't she enjoyed the changes even as she complained at times? Every time you make a decision, she'd always said, your life changes.

His mother…

Cliff wandered over to his desk and picked up the framed picture that was lying face down on the surface. Turning it over, he looked at the image it held; his younger sister's last birthday party. Taylor was there, having fun but looking embarrassed by it as the flash caught her attention, her expression one of laughing disbelief. Hannah was smiling widely as she showed off her new ballet costume, complete with the rhinestone hair clips that she had wanted for months, saying that they'd make her look like a princess. Cliff was nearby; one hand covered in the remains of a piece of cake and held out towards his older sister in a teasingly threatening gesture. Sue was there, standing a bit apart from her children as she watched them, an indulgent smile on a face that was filled with love. In the background, Hannah's friends were seen racing around playing, or eating cake and ice cream. Looking at it, he could almost hear the blare of Disney soundtracks that had comprised the music and smell the Kool-Aid punch that had been the beverage of choice along with the diet soda.

It was one of his favorite pictures and had been since it was first taken by Jeannie. It was absolutely perfect, showing the personality of each person even as it showed the bonds they shared as a family as a whole.

The pain is a reminder, Zoe had said. Maybe so, but it wasn't the only one he had. He had his memories and pictures. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell Sue's perfume, feel her arms as she hugged him. If he listened carefully, he could hear her chiding him or his sisters for something, reminding them to do their homework or not to fight.

His memories might fade in time; he may begin to have difficulty remembering her voice or perfume… but he'd never forget her completely. His life had changed, but he'd always remember her.

He carried the picture frame over to the window and touched the cool glass above his mother's face and nodded slightly. He looked out into the night sky as he spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to leave, Mom. I hope that you're happy, where ever you are. We'll be okay. Aunt Zoe'll take good care of us. I'll take good care of us. You don't have to worry about anything. I love you."

As he turned away from the window, a star flashed unnoticed in the night sky.

TBC in the Epilogue

quick note: the first three sentences that Zoe says are not mine -- they were used in the Pilot.


	7. Epilogue: A Letter of Healing

**Epilogue:  "A Letter of Healing"**

Sue,

It's been a month and a half since I got the call from Jeannie telling me that you died. A month and a half since my world completely changed. God, Sue, six weeks. You've been gone for six weeks and it feels like forever. I just can't get used to the idea that you won't be there if I pick up the phone and dial. I still automatically remember things that I know you'd like to hear later.

I stepped into your shoes and I'm completely lost, trying to be everything to everybody. How did you do it? You always made being a single mom seem so effortless. Jeannie told me that you always said that I was the strong one. You've never been more wrong in your life. You're the strong one, Sue. You always have been. I just hope that I could be somewhere near what you are. What you were.

I know that you'd be worried about them, so let me tell you right now: the kids are doing okay. They still miss you, they always will, and things were really rocky at first, but they've settled down a bit. Of course, believing that you caused the accident didn't help anything. I know – you didn't. As soon as I heard that stupid theory, I shot it down. You, responsibility personified, speeding and running a red? As if! I did some investigating. I wanted – no, I needed – to give your kids – my kids – our kids – some peace of mind. I know for sure that Cliff blamed himself. I can guess that they felt abandoned; that you had chosen to leave them just like David had. They know different now, Sue. Know, not hope.

The people in the other car lied. The driver – who was drunk, of course – left the scene and his lover lied to the police. It was her car, so it was easy. She even blackmailed – or is it bribed? – a guy into saying that he was there and agreeing with her story. All to cover up an affair so her husband wouldn't divorce her and leave her with nothing. How anyone can believe money is worth a person's life or a family's peace of mind, I'll never know.

Because the insurance company believed the report – company policy to accept police reports that have witnesses who clearly state, and officers who accept, who was at fault – I investigated myself. Well, with the help of two agents – you'd really like them, Sue, and can I just say that one of them is really good looking? – but I did the bulk of it on my own. When it was all over, I gained the attention of Barb Miller, AKA the Intimidator, head of the Special Investigation Unit. She was so impressed by my solving your case that she offered me a job right then and there! She said that I obviously have 'insight as well as unusual… skills.' I can practically hear you laughing as I tell you that. Once again, Zoe Busiek lands on her feet and walks into a job.

I was really scared for a while. No place I tried was willing to give me a job. I was even thinking about going back to dancing temporarily, until I was able to find something else. You know things had to be drastic for me to think about that – I came pretty close to swearing that I'd never go back to exotic dancing again after the last time and to do it when I'm supporting three kids? I wouldn't if I had any other choice. Apparently a resume like mine isn't an asset in Chicago like it was in Vegas. Who would've guessed? I wasn't able to do anything right with the kids either – from broccoli in the mac and cheese to being able to control Taylor.

Did you know that that girl lied to me before I was here a full hour? Hell, forget the hour – half an hour! You weren't kidding all those times when you said that she's a handful! Cliff was really quiet and distanced, but a large part of that was guilt. Jeannie told me that he and Taylor fought the night you died, but wouldn't go into details. Hannah's the one that completely breaks my heart. She always carries around that stuffed rabbit that you got her as an anytime present and she tries to be upbeat, but every once in a while she gets so quiet, so still. I just want to hug her and never let go.

Taylor snuck out. Well, kind of, not really. We compromised on her grounding for lying so that she could go to a school dance since she already had a date. She went to a frat party instead. Sound familiar? I thought it might. If she can make me feel like this after a month and a half, I really owe our parents apologies for pulling all the stunts I did. I went to go get her and it's a damned good thing I did. She'd been slipped a date rape drug and passed out in the car on the way home. I took her to the hospital and got there in time. She's okay – they pumped her stomach and got everything out of her system. She's okay, Sue, I promise.

I did it, Sue. I was in the right place at the right time and I was able to take care of her. I did something right! I'm not the complete and total screw up that I felt like for so long. It was then, while standing by a nurses' station in a little black dress since I'd dressed up to play chaperone for Taylor's school dance, that I knew I could do this. I can raise these kids like you wanted. I can guide them into being adults that you'd be proud of. I know that I'm going to make mistakes, but I will succeed. I have no choice - I promised you I would.

As scary – and as heartbreaking (Hannah asked me if Taylor was going to die, too) – as that was, it did make me realize something else important. I'm not just here for you, because you asked and you wanted me to take care of them. I'm here for me, too. I always knew I loved them and I knew that I didn't want them going into foster care or David taking care of them, but I don't think I ever knew how much I actually wanted to be here. These kids are the last tangible link I have to you – living, breathing reminders of your life that I can look at and talk to every day. Nothing in the world can keep me away.

I met Marcos Morales – he's the one who asked me to be a chaperone. I knew he was around and was Cliff's coach, but you never told me that he got so cute! He's the one who asked me to be one of the chaperones. He said they needed 'adults.' I joked that no one's ever accused me of being one before, but I guess he was right. I'm a parent now and I have to grow up. You've finally succeeded into turning me into a responsible and respectable – okay, semi-respectable – adult. And you thought it would never happen! I hope that, where ever you are; you're patting yourself on the back. You definitely deserve it.

There's so much that I never got around to telling you, Sue, but you never needed me to anyway, did you? You always just knew in that way you always just know everything. But I still want to say the words, okay? I want to say the words that I should've been saying all along and believe that somehow you can hear them.

Thank you for being there for me when we were growing up. I always knew that I could count on you to chase the boogeyman away.

Thank you for being there if I really needed you, no matter how awful I was to your boyfriends.

Thank you for putting up with an annoying tag-a-long younger sister that never shut up. You've always had the patience of a saint and the heart of a mother.

Thank you for supporting my decision to move away from home when everyone else said that I was crazy and going to regret it. And for supporting every other move since.

Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and go off on tangents that probably confused the hell out of you.

There are a million more that I could say, Sue: an entire lifetime of them. Will my thinking them be enough? I hope so. I really want to believe that you can hear these. I do have one really big one left that I want to actually say:

Thank you for trusting me to raise your children. You've always believed in me when no one else has – including myself – and I won't let you down.

I guess what I'm basically saying is… thank you for being you.

I love you, Sue.

--

The End (thought I'd never reach it…didn't you?)

--

Final note:

Thanks for everyone who reviewed… I hope that they (and those who didn't) enjoyed the story… Or at least found it 'not horrible' lol


End file.
